https://moelane.com/tag/the-house/
I shall elide the name of the town, for the protection of those reading it: call it Pericarp. It is a small town, and pleasant enough, for those who like that sort of thing. I found it flavorless, and its inhabitants moreso, right up to the moment where I would inquire about the house. Then their reactions to it were most intriguing, indeed.
Understand that there were no expressions of shock or disgust at the topic, no furtive glances in its general direction. My questions were greeted with nary a hunched shoulder or furtive whisper; the good natives of Pericarp simply instead pretended to hear as few inquiries as possible about the place. There were no stories about it, around the neighborhood. At best I would get a Oh, I guess there’s a house there? And then the subject would be dropped.
Typically, when adults will not talk about a bad place, their children will. But Pericarp’s children also avoided the house. No lurking around its edges, daring each other to touch a door or smash a window; children would not look at the house at all. But when asked about it? It seemed that they were not yet old enough to learn how to hide the fear in their eyes.